


A Drumfred Christmas: The Tale of a Gryffindor Head Boy and a Hufflepuff Trouble Maker

by SheOfTheBookAndSong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas at Hogwarts, Crossover, Detention, Drumfred, Edward Drummond Lives, Edward Drummond is a good boy, First Dates, First Kiss, Gryffindor, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Honeydukes, Hufflepuff, M/M, Merry Christmas, Mistletoe, Three Broomsticks, mutually smitten, no seriously the fluff is RIDICULOUS, only the tiniest bit of angst I swear, pure fluff, tipsy Edward Drummond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheOfTheBookAndSong/pseuds/SheOfTheBookAndSong
Summary: It's nearly Christmas time at Hogwarts and Edward Drummond, quiet and studious Gryffindor Head Boy, is looking forward to finally having some quiet reading time in the Gryffindor common room. But his plans might be somewhat spoiled when he discovers that he is required to supervise a detention for the mischievous George Paget and his mysterious younger brother from Hufflepuff, Alfred....Featuring Hogwarts at Christmas time, modern-day Drumfred, and a massive helping of festive fluff to make up for all the angst I usually put them through!





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whydidtheydothis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whydidtheydothis/gifts), [Lucky_Moony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky_Moony/gifts), [iwritetrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/gifts), [oswinpxnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oswinpxnd/gifts).



> Harry Potter is one of the only things I adore as much as Drumfred, so I thought it was about time I combined the two to create copious amounts of Christmas fluff!
> 
> And apologies, this was supposed to be a one-shot story, but, being me, it has turned out longer than expected, so this story will (hopefully) be told in two parts! I will try to post Part 2 as soon as I can, so that the whole story is up as close to Christmas as possible.
> 
> And now, without further ado - I hope you enjoy my ridiculously fluffy Hogwarts AU!

The Christmas trees are up in the Great Hall, sparkling with trinkets and ornaments and lit up with tiny little fairies jabbering to each other. All around the castle, the suits of armour have been enchanted to sing snatches of carols whenever anyone walks by, despite the fact that they do not know all of the words and often fill in the blanks with words of their own invention. In the corridors close to the kitchens, the scents of cinnamon, nutmeg and gingerbread pervade the air. Outside, the grounds are sparkling with frost, the lake completely frozen over, and out in the village of Hogsmeade, the snow dusting the roofs of the thatched cottages and the holly wreaths placed on the doors makes the whole town look like a seasonal postcard.

Surrounded by all this, it is no wonder that there is barely a single Hogwarts student focusing on classes or homework. It’s perhaps a lucky thing, then, that today is the last day of term before the Christmas holidays begin. Classes are finishing early for the day, and most students who are heading home for the holidays have already packed their suitcases and shut their owls safely in their cages, ready to board the Hogwarts Express.

For those staying in the castle, however, there will be festive end-of-term celebrations on offer in Hogsmeade, and many students are already buzzing with excitement, ready to dump their school bags in their dormitories as soon as classes finish, wrap themselves snugly in scarves and gloves, and head over to the village.

 

When the bell finally rings at the end of the History of Magic class, signalling that term has ended and the holidays have officially begun, most of the Gryffindor seventh-years practically bolt out of the classroom, barely remembering to call a ‘Merry Christmas, Professor,’ towards their teacher, Professor Robert Peel, on their way out. Professor Peel chuckles in response, shaking his head a little as he walks over to talk to the single student left in the classroom.

 

Unlike the others, Edward Drummond seems to be in no particular rush as he takes his time packing his books into his bag, smiling to himself slightly.

Peel grins at him. He knows that strictly speaking, as a teacher, he is not supposed to have favourite students. But where Drummond is concerned - Head Boy, modest, quiet, kind, and intelligent, with a passion for learning and a love for Peel’s subject in particular - it is difficult not to develop a bit of a soft spot.

 

“Not rushing off to Hogsmeade with everyone else then, Drummond?” he asks him.

Edward grins back at his favourite teacher. “No, sir. My little sister Rosalie gave me her present early - it’s a book about the history of wizarding politics and Muggle politics in Britain, and the ways in which they intertwine and affect each other!”

Peel tries to stifle a laugh. He knows that most of his students would find a book like the one Drummond was describing deadly dull, and would read it only begrudgingly for homework. Drummond’s face, though, is shining with enthusiasm as he describes it.

“I thought I might take advantage of a relatively empty common room to settle down with my book, sir,” Edward continues, beaming.

He had been nagged rather intently by both his sister and by Florence Kerr from Ravenclaw, his best friend who had known him and Rosalie since they were all small children. Rosalie and Florence were eager to go out and enjoy the festivities in Hogsmeade, and both had pestered him to come. They had been somewhat put out with him when he had opted to spend the time reading his new book instead of going with them.

Edward feels a tiny bit guilty for turning them down; but then, he reminds himself, he had been looking forward to this opportunity for so long! He had been buried in exam preparation over the last few weeks, but wherever he went, he could not seem to escape the endless noise from other students. The Gryffindor common room had been especially loud, chaotic and overwhelming, heaving with so many people that Edward had found it near impossible to get to his favourite squashy armchair by the fireplace.

He’s sure the activities in Hogsmeade will be perfectly nice, but everywhere from Zonkos to Honeydukes to the Three Broomsticks will still be absolutely teeming with people and noise. This will be the first time in _weeks_ that the Gryffindor common room will be almost entirely empty, and he can’t wait to finally get some peace and quiet, sitting in his favourite armchair, reading the book Rosalie had got for him while drinking some hot cocoa.

 

Peel coughs a little awkwardly.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you weren’t overly attached to the idea of going to Hogsmeade, Drummond,” he says, “but I’m afraid if you had your heart set on some quiet alone time in your common room this afternoon, I may have to disappoint you after all.”

 

Edward frowns at him slightly. “What do you mean, sir?”

 

Peel sighs. “There are a couple of students who have managed to get themselves a detention. The staff don’t want detentions dragging into next term, so it’s been decided that they’ll simply do their detention this afternoon instead, while the other students are out in Hogsmeade. I’m sorry to have to do this, Drummond, but as Head Boy and Girl, you and Miss Hanover will be required to supervise.”

 

Edward groans. Not only does this throw a wrench in his plans, but supervising detentions is the Head Boy duty that he detests most. Asserting her authority comes easily to his friend Victoria Hanover, Head Girl and fellow Gryffindor - in fact he suspects she rather enjoys the experience - but Edward always feels rather ridiculous trying to enforce rules and tell other people what to do.

 

“Who is it that’s managed to earn themselves a detention, Professor?” Edward asks.

 

“George Paget, along with his younger brother from Hufflepuff, Alfred,” Peel responds.

 

Edward sighs. He is all too familiar with George Paget - he’s also in Gryffindor, and in the same year as Edward, Florence and Victoria. Edward does have to admit that George can be very funny, even hilarious at times; but he also seems to think it is his mission in life to cause chaos. He’s _never_ able to sit still or keep his head down in classes - in fact Edward is fairly certain that more than one teacher has been visited by an urge to strangle him - and Edward had often wondered if the level of noise in the Gryffindor common room was caused more by George Paget than by anyone else.

 

As for George’s brother Alfred Paget, though, Edward is pretty sure he’s never met him, which makes sense given that he’s younger and in a different House, he supposes. Given that this Alfred has landed himself in detention along with George, though, Edward suspects that he’s probably just as loud and obnoxious as his older brother.

 

“What is it that the Paget brothers did, exactly?” Edward asks warily.

 

“Oh, some ridiculous nonsense; they enchanted some mistletoe to persistently float around after poor Mr Penge as he went about his cleaning duties. Apparently they also ensured that this mistletoe would repeatedly ask Mr Penge, in a very high-pitched voice, whether he was ‘lonely.’” Peel rolls his eyes. “Hardly a capital offence, but Penge was rather adamant that they should be punished for their actions.”

 

Edward struggles to keep a straight face, trying and failing to stifle a giggle. Of course it’s ridiculous and immature, but it’s also funny - true to form for George Paget, then.

 

“I really am sorry to have to ask this of you, Drummond,” Peel says sympathetically, “but it should only take a couple of hours. The Paget boys have been given some extra homework to write; all that will be required of you and Miss Hanover is to sit and supervise, and make sure they’re actually doing work. You could even bring that book you were enthusing about to help the time pass quicker, if you like. So, could you and Miss Hanover please aim to meet the Paget boys back in this classroom, around an hour from now?”

 

Edward sighs a little and nods, attempting to look more positive than he feels.

“We’ll be here, sir.”

 

* * *

 

It’s almost the time that Peel told them to be back in the classroom now, and yet Edward finds himself tapping his foot, anxiously hovering as he waits for Victoria to get a move on.

She’d insisted that she needed to make a ‘quick’ detour to the Charms classroom, to ask Professor Melbourne for some advice on the essay she’d just given in. Edward can’t deny that Professor Melbourne is rather handsome, certainly one of the best-looking teachers at Hogwarts, but he’d somehow forgotten what a ridiculously huge crush Victoria has on him.

 

He watches as she leans in a little closer to Melbourne as he sits at his desk, twirling her hair around her finger, her eyes trained on his face. Edward shakes his head, wondering if Melbourne really is oblivious to it, or if he’s just making a rather heroic effort to be professional.

 

“I hope you didn’t spend _too_ long agonising over my essay, Professor,” Victoria was purring, batting her eyelashes.

 

Finally deciding that he’s been waiting long enough, Edward coughs pointedly, interrupting her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Professor, but Victoria and I actually need to get going pretty quickly. We have a detention to supervise.”

“Of course,” Melbourne said. Edward grinned as he heard a trace of relief in the professor’s voice. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties. Merry Christmas, Drummond, Miss Hanover.”

 

Victoria sighs as Edward holds the classroom door open for her.

“You’re annoying, you know that, Drums?” she says as soon as they’re out of Melbourne’s earshot.

He grins a little. “Well, you’re obvious,” he responds, and she swats him lightly on the arm. “Anyway, we _do_ have to get a move on, I wasn’t just saying that to annoy you.”

“I suppose,” Victoria grumbles, quickening her pace to match his.

 

After a few moments’ silence, Edward speaks up again.

“Obviously, I already know _all_ about George Paget,” he says, “so I’m guessing we’ll have no surprises there. But I’m pretty sure I don’t know his younger brother. Do _you_ know anything about Alfred Paget?”

“Yeah, I know Alfred through Harriet Sutherland,” Victoria responds, “they’ve been friends since they were tiny.”

“And? What’s he like?”, Edward asks.

“Oh, Alfred is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s still a Paget,” she answers, grinning,

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, don’t trust the angel face.”

Edward nods thoughtfully.

“Given how pretty he is, it’s a damn shame neither Harriet or I have ever managed to get him to flirt with us,” Victoria sighs, pouting. “He’s not much like his brother in that regard - I don’t think either Harriet or I are exactly his type.” She shoots a wink at Edward, smirking.

Edward sighs. He can already feel a headache coming on.

 

There is no sign of either Paget brother yet when they reach the classroom.

“Of course they weren’t ever going to get here on time,” Victoria mutters. “See, Drums? There was no need to rush me here so bloody quickly.”

Edward shrugs, sitting down at the desk at the front of the classroom, and pulling his book out of his bag. “Well, at least we’re here when we’re supposed to be.”

She huffs at him. “You are _such_ a teacher’s pet, Drummond.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, silently reminding her of the reason he’d had to pull her away, and she blushes slightly, muttering “Shut up.”

Edward grins, returning his attention to his book.

 

Only a few minutes pass, however, before they hear sniggering voices outside, and a smirking George Paget bursts through the door, with a much slighter boy in tow; Alfred, Edward presumes.

 

“I really must apologise most humbly and sincerely for our lateness,” George says loudly, sinking into a ridiculous bow and shooting a flirtatious grin in Victoria’s direction. “It’s all my brother’s fault, I’m afraid.”

Victoria rolls her eyes even as she blushes slightly, determined to show George that she isn’t at all affected by his flirting.

“Sit down and shut up, Paget,” she says.

“If you insist - ”

“Now, Paget,” she says firmly, cutting him off. George grins, dropping down into the seat she’s pointing at.

 

Edward barely notices any of this exchange. Everything else seems to have suddenly turned into meaningless background noise since the moment Alfred Paget stepped into the room behind his older brother.

Alright, so I _definitely_ have not met him before, Edward thinks. I would have remembered…. _that._

Alfred Paget’s hair seems to be spun out of pure gold, catching every single ray of sunlight streaming in through the window. His eyes are such a bright, startling blue that Edward suddenly feels he’s falling through the sky, and they’re framed by sooty lashes longer than any Edward has ever seen on anyone else. Alfred doesn’t appear to be setting much store by the uniform code, either. He has discarded his tie entirely, and he does not seem aware that the top three buttons on his shirt have a purpose; his collar is gaping open, revealing his smooth neck and collarbone.

Alfred shakes his head a little, rolling his eyes at George’s attempts at flirting, and then looks at Edward, shooting a smile at him from underneath those ridiculously long lashes.

Absurdly, Edward feels his face start to burn as his heart begins pounding relentlessly. The next thing he knows, there is a loud thump and he jumps at the sudden sensation of pain; somehow, he has managed to drop his heavy book on his own foot. Blushing even more furiously now, he scrambles to pick it up, cursing himself.

 

“Okay, Alf, you know I love you, but you _both_ need to sit down and shut up, I’m afraid,” Victoria says, grinning slightly.

“I didn’t even…!” Alfred starts indignantly.

“Come on, the sooner you two actually settle down and do the shit you’re supposed to be doing, the sooner we can all get out of here,” Victoria says in her best ‘stern authority’ voice.

“Okay, okay,” Alfred grumbles, sitting down at a desk next to George and taking out his quill.

 

Realising suddenly that he’s _still_ staring, Edward hastily opens his book and attempts to hide his still-pink face in it. This is an excellent book, he reminds himself sternly, and he’s been looking forward to reading it for so long. If the Paget brothers are actually going to be quiet and get down to their work, then that might mean he actually has an opportunity to read. He’s not going to waste that chance by staring at Alfred Paget like an idiot instead!

He’s _not._

Edward fixes his eyes determinedly on the page in front of him, but the book may as well be written in hieroglyphics, for all the meaning he’s gleaning from it. How is anyone supposed to focus on anything when _he’s_ in the room?

While Victoria wanders over to try and ensure George is actually working, Edward can’t seem to stop himself from darting glances over at Alfred every few moments, needing another glimpse. It doesn’t help that every time he looks over, Alfred seems to be looking thoughtfully back at him with those startlingly blue eyes. Edward sighs to himself, trying to force himself once again to look at his book. No use. He can still feel Alfred’s eyes on him.

He looks up again a little while later, and jumps, slightly taken aback to find that Alfred has got up from his chair and walked over to the desk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Alfred says, grinning at him again and causing Edward’s heart to do another backflip.

“No....you didn’t startle….” Edward responds, trying to remember how to string together a coherent sentence.

“I’m sorry my idiot brother and I have made you miss out on the Hogsmeade trip.”

Despite himself, Edward finds himself smiling back. “Don’t worry,” he answers shyly. “I wasn’t planning on going to Hogsmeade today anyway. I was actually going to settle down in the common room with this book while it was quiet. Wild party animal, I know.”

“Seriously?” Alfred asks. Edward nods.

“Must be a _very_ interesting book, then,” Alfred says, laughing a little.  

Edward looks down, cursing internally as he feels himself blushing again.

“Well, no, I’m probably the only person at Hogwarts who would find it interesting, actually,” he mumbles. “In fact, my sister and my best friend said…”

“Why don’t you tell me all about it, and I’ll be the judge?” Alfred asks, cutting him off before he can ramble too much.

Startled, Edward scans his face, trying to figure out if Alfred is making fun of him - but all he sees is warmth, and genuine curiosity.

“Ok,” he says hesitantly. “Well, this book explores the history of both magical and Muggle politics in Britain over the last three hundred years, and examines the ways the wizarding and Muggle communities have affected each other. I’ve actually just reached the part about the Corn Law Repeal in the Muggle Parliament, in 1846, and the way the contemporary Minister of Magic, Hortensia Milliphutt, reacted to those Laws was just _so_ weird…”

 

Although he’s a little embarrassed at first, half-waiting for Alfred to laugh at him, before he knows it Edward is rapidly gushing about the book, enthusiastically explaining to Alfred about the parts he finds most fascinating. Florence or Victoria would have probably rolled their eyes at him and told him to put a sock in it by this point, but Alfred Paget seems to be showing no signs of boredom or impatience at all. In fact, he’s smiling slightly, astonishingly blue eyes fixed on Edward’s face as though he’s drinking in every word. Edward can’t help but feel a little thrill of pride at that thought.

 

“How do you know so much about all this?” Alfred demands, grinning.

 

Edward blushes again. “Well, I would never claim to be an expert or anything like that...but I guess both Muggle and magical politics kind of run in my family.” Alfred quirks an eyebrow curiously.

‘My sister Rosalie and I are half-bloods,” Edward elaborates. “Our dad Charles is a Muggle, he actually works as a private secretary to the Muggle Prime Minister at the moment. And our mum, Frances, works at the Ministry of Magic, in quite a senior position, actually. She’s in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - she actually started this initiative to make sure there are at least three witches on the committee for every Ministry department, because she thought the Ministry was getting a bit too mired in tradition.”

“Sounds like you’re pretty proud of your parents,” Alfred comments.

“Oh, I am! Rosalie and I are both really proud of them!”

“Well, I’m sure they’re _extremely_ proud of you, too,” Alfred says quietly, giving Edward another smile that seems to make his heart melt just a little.

“Well...I…,” Edward stutters. _Dammit,_ he can _feel_ his face going scarlet again!

 

He seems to have lost the ability of forming a coherent sentence, again, as Alfred smiles at him.

He’s saved from making himself look like even more of an idiot, though, as Victoria suddenly appears at his shoulder, arms crossed and trying to look stern, despite the amusement written across her face.

 

“Nice try, Paget,” she says to Alfred wryly. “But look, even your idiot brother is being a good boy and doing some work now.” She points over at George, who is scribbling away with his quill, attempting to look like the picture of innocence, though the effect is ruined somewhat by the smirk on his face.

“You know how much I _hate_ to do this, of course,” Victoria continues, her glee evident in her voice, “but unless Drummond and I have seen you doing at least twenty minutes of actual work by the end of this session, then I’m afraid that, most unfortunately, we’re going to have to report to Professor Peel that you might be needing another detention to get everything finished. Right, Drums?” She shoots a smirk of her own at Edward, who nods reluctantly, struggling to look remotely dignified, which is made more difficult by the fact that his face is still pink and he can still feel his heart fluttering.

 

Alfred rolls his eyes at her. “I’m on it, _ma’am_ ,” he says sarcastically. Edward tries to hide a smile.

Victoria twirls her wand lovingly in her fingers. “You know, I’ve been studying for the Defence against the Dark Arts final, and I really have been _itching_ to try out this jinx…”

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” Alfred says hastily, standing up and moving back towards his desk, grumbling to himself. Edward hopes the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach isn’t too obvious on his face.

 

He opens his book again, trying to focus, but he fares even worse than before, darting glances over at Alfred and wishing he would wander over to the front again. In fact, he’s ridiculously tempted to stand up and walk over to Alfred himself.

But Victoria, arms folded, seems to have decided that closer supervision is in order, and is standing over both Pagets warningly. She really is surprisingly intimidating for someone of her size, Edward reflects.

 

For the next half hour or so, there is silence, apart from the ticking of the clock and the scratching of the Pagets’ quills. Fixing his eyes determinedly on the page in front of him, Edwards hears a slight pause in the scratching sound every now and then, and he can feel Alfred’s eyes on him. He can still feel himself blushing.

 

Finally, Victoria breaks the silence. “Alright, Alfred, and idiot. Now that you boys have taken away our evening, you’re free. Go on, get lost.”

 

Edward stands up, packing his book in his bag as slowly as possible. He’s desperate to speak to Alfred again, to try and make him laugh. If he’s honest with himself, actually, what he _really_ wants to do is ask him out, and then kiss him senseless, not necessarily in that order. But he really isn’t sure how to explain any of that to Alfred, and certainly not in front of Victoria.

 

Alfred seems to be packing up rather slowly too, especially in comparison to his brother, who appears to have put his things away in a split second, and is now bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. Alfred turns to look at Edward again, and opens his mouth as though about to say something - but George pipes up before his brother can get any words out.

“Come on, Plumpy, get a bloody move on!!”

 _Plumpy?_ Edward thinks in bewilderment, wondering if he misheard.

Alfred sighs. “Alright, hold your hippogriffs, Gege, I’m coming….”

 

George practically shoves him out of the classroom, although Alfred looks over his shoulder as he goes, glancing at Edward, who immediately feels his heart do another backflip.

 

Once the Pagets have gone, Victoria immediately turns to Edward, hands on her hips, shaking her head in amusement.

“Oh, Drums, Drums, Drums,” she says, still smirking.

“What?” Edward responds with a feeble attempt at bravado, though without meeting her eyes.

“Wonderful Head Boy you are. Very authoritative and intimidating; in fact I’m trembling in my boots as I speak.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward mutters, though he feels he has a fairly good idea of what she’s about to say.

She grins. “Didn’t I warn you not to trust the angel face? _Obviously_ Alfred just didn’t want to do any work in this detention, and he clearly saw immediately what an easy mark you were! You were just going to let him get away with doing no work at all, weren’t you? It’s lucky you weren’t supervising this detention alone! I’m using the word ‘supervising’ in its loosest possible sense, by the way.”

“I...I didn’t.....,” Edward stutters.

“Oh, come on, Drums, you fell for his flirting hook, line, and sinker.”

He stares at her, feeling suddenly like a colossal idiot. Victoria sighs, her face softening a little, and claps a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Oh, don’t worry about it too much, Drums. You’re not the first person to fall for the Paget charm, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last, either. Come on, let’s get you back to the Common Room so you can finally curl up with your beloved book. We’ll get you some cocoa; I’ll even let you cuddle Dash for a bit if you want!”

 

Edward nods reluctantly, barely taking in her words. He loves having Victoria’s spaniel Dash curl up in his lap as he reads, and normally he would leap at the opportunity, as she’s so protective of Dash that she rarely lets anyone else touch him.

But right now, he is a little preoccupied, cursing himself for being such an idiot. Victoria was right; _obviously,_ Alfred Paget had just seen an opportunity to get out of doing work, and he’d taken it.

He wishes he could kick himself. Yes, Alfred was gorgeous, but had he _really_ had to make it so blindingly obvious that he thought so? Staring at him, practically drooling....god, Alfred was probably laughing about it with George at this very moment!

As Victoria locks the classroom behind them, he swallows, willing himself not to cry and make himself look even more pathetic.

 

Well, he supposes Alfred Paget will just think of him as a gullible idiot from this moment on. But it shouldn’t be _too_ difficult to avoid him, given they’re in different Houses and different years. Edward tries to ignore the ridiculous, hollow sensation of loss. He’ll just have to keep a dignified distance; that’s what a Head Boy was supposed to do, as Victoria had made so clear.

Honestly, he chides himself, he had gotten along perfectly well without even knowing who Alfred Paget _was_ until a couple of hours ago! He could get along perfectly well without him now. There was no reason to let one person change everything.

 

* * *

 

 

As he wanders along after George, Alfred feels somewhat dazed.

 

George had told him on the way to the detention that the Head Boy, Edward Drummond, was a huge nerd - which seemed to be true, judging from the way he’d gushed about his politics book.

But how was it that George had completely failed to mention the fact that Edward Drummond was also utterly _gorgeous_? He was physically beautiful, Alfred could hardly have failed to notice that; tall and broad, with incredible cheekbones, intelligent dark eyes, and ridiculously curly brown hair that fell into his eyes whenever he glanced down at his book.

 

But it was more than just the way he looked. It was the adorable way he ducked his head as his cheeks went pink. It was the way his entire face lit up as he explained about his book, his passion and excitement so clear in his voice. Ordinarily, Alfred would probably have wanted to bang his head against the wall if he had been forced to learn about the history of politics in class; yet somehow, Edward Drummond made it seem genuinely fascinating. And there was also the way he seemed to drench the entire room in sunlight, just by smiling shyly. There was nothing calculated about him, no flirtatiousness - he didn’t even seem aware of the effect he had!

They had never met before, but somehow Alfred felt, from the moment he’d walked into the classroom and set eyes on him, that he just _knew_ him.

He never would have imagined he would feel this way about someone so quiet, so studious, so well-behaved - a ‘huge nerd,’ to use George’s phrase. But never before had he felt so instinctively drawn to someone.

 

“That was a pretty good tactic you had there, Plumpy,” George comments in an impressed tone, interrupting his thoughts. “I mean, you managed to get away with doing barely any work! Excellent flirting action, I must say.”

 

“Hmm?” Alfred asks vaguely. He’s finding it a little difficult to focus, his mind full of Edward Drummond’s dark eyes and shy smile.

 

“Wait a minute…” George turns and puts his hands on Alfred’s shoulders, forcing him to a standstill. He scans his face carefully for a moment.

“What?” Alfred demands, trying to avoid his brother’s eyes. Apparently, though, he isn’t very successful, as George lets out a crow of laughter.

“HA! And here was me, all impressed by your strategic plan!! Oh my god, Plumpy, I can’t believe it - you really _are_ head over heels for Edward Drummond, Head Boy, professor’s pet, and nerd extraordinaire!”

“No...I….don’t be an idiot, Gege,” Alfred mutters. “ I _was_ being strategic…”

“Your reputation will be completely ruined once this gets out, Plumpy! _Ruined_!” George crows gleefully.

“Shut the hell up, Gege,” he mutters, striding ahead and cursing himself as he feels his cheeks burning, George still sniggering behind him.

 

Dammit, he realises, George is right; he _is_ in deep. He could feel his heart pounding just from George saying Edward Drummond’s _name_ , for god’s sake, and all he can seem to think about is how soon he’ll be able to see him again. What is _happening_ to him?

 

He stops suddenly as a troubling thought occurs to him.

If George, who knew him better than most people, had initially believed Alfred was only flirting to get out of doing work...what did Edward think? Surely, Edward didn’t think Alfred had just been toying with him, manipulating him?!

 

“Gege,” he says, turning back to his brother, his eyes wide. “Do you think he thought I was just screwing around?”

 

George shrugs, looking a little concerned at the expression on his brother’s face. “How should I know what goes on in Drummond’s brain, Plumpy?”

 

Alfred sighs. He can’t stand the thought that Edward Drummond might be feeling hurt, or stupid, or embarrassed, and all because of him.

Well, he thinks, it looks like he’ll be paying a visit to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall tomorrow morning.

 

God, George is right. He’s done for.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred sets the record straight with Edward, and asks him a very important question....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer than I expected - but at least I can promise you a long chapter with A LOT of fluff! In fact, it might be a bit tooth-rotting, so bring a toothbrush!
> 
> Enjoy!!

 

 

Florence Kerr sighs as she shares a glance with Rosalie Drummond over Edward’s head.

She’s come over from the Ravenclaw table to join them for breakfast, ready to join Rosalie in gloating to Edward about everything they did in Hogsmeade yesterday without him. It really does amuse her that Edward was so determined to stay in the castle so that he could be a ridiculous nerd and read his book - and instead, he ended up staying in the castle so that he could supervise a detention.

 

Florence had been expecting to find Edward in a slightly irritable mood this morning, and she’d been rather looking forward to teasing him.

What she _hadn’t_ expected was to find him looking so utterly downcast and miserable. He’s toying absentmindedly with the food on his plate without actually eating anything, and he doesn’t seem to be taking in anything that either she or Rosalie are saying to him. In fact, he barely seems aware of their presence.

 

“Has he been like this all morning?”, she mutters to Rosalie. Rosalie nods. “I think so.”

 

“Edward,” she says, turning back to him impatiently. “Can you bloody _tell_ us what the problem is, instead of just sitting there sulking?”

 

No response, other than Rosalie looking at her reprovingly from Edward’s other side. She’s being too harsh, apparently. Florence rolls her eyes slightly; Rosalie has always hero-worshipped her older brother, believing he can do no wrong.

 

“Please, Eddie,” Rosalie tries, wrapping a hand comfortingly around his arm. _“Please_ can you tell us what’s wrong? We just want to help you, don’t we, Flo?”

 

Florence sighs and nods. “I mean, if he wants to just sit there and be annoying and sulky…”

 

“I’m _not_ being annoying and sulky,” Edward pipes up suddenly. Florence raises an eyebrow at him disbelievingly.

 

“It’s just….” Edward sighs. “Look, don’t worry about it, guys,” he mutters. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

Florence raises her eyebrows even higher. “Really? Sure seems like a big deal.”

 

Victoria, clearly already on her way out, claps a hand on Edward’s shoulder as she passes. “How’s our big scary Head Boy doing this morning?”

 

“You don’t happen to know what’s wrong with him, do you, Vic?” Florence asks. “The idiot is refusing to tell us anything.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Victoria responds, grinning. “He just had a bit of a Paget overdose in detention yesterday.”

 

Florence tilts her head curiously, as Edward glares at Victoria.

 

“Oh, and speak of the devil,” Victoria says, sounding somewhat surprised as she glances over her shoulder. “Morning, Alfred! Come to see your conquest?”

 

Edward turns his head around so fast that he almost gives himself whiplash, feeling himself blushing furiously again.

 

Standing directly behind him is none other than Alfred Paget himself, looking somehow even more gorgeous than he did yesterday. He also looks a lot less sure of himself than he did when he walked into the detention, twisting his hands together nervously and a little pink in the face.

He’s brought company along with him from the Hufflepuff table; a petite, pretty, smiling girl, with wide blue eyes and long blonde hair streaming down her back.

 

“This is my best friend Mina Coke,” Alfred says, gesturing to her a little awkwardly without looking at her, his eyes fixed on Edward’s face. “She just wanted to come over and say hi….”

 

Florence would have snorted at how blatantly untrue this last comment was - it’s pretty clear that this visit is Alfred’s idea, not Mina’s - but all coherent thoughts seem to have suddenly vanished from her head as Mina smooths her butterscotch-coloured fringe away from her face and shoots her a shy smile.

 

Edward is faring no better than his best friend, staring at Alfred in shock as his heart thumps madly in his chest.

 

Victoria looks between Edward and Florence, who have both gone scarlet, and grins, shaking her head as she bids them farewell.

“Be careful with him, Alf, he’s a bit delicate,” she says, clapping Alfred on the shoulder as she passes him. Edward feels his face turning an even deeper shade of crimson as he registers Victoria’s words, wishing he could sink into the floor.

 

“Is it alright if I sit down?” Alfred asks Edward quietly. Edward nods slowly, wondering what on earth is going on. Rosalie glances back and forth between them excitedly, and enthusiastically shuffles down a bit so that Alfred has room to sit down between her and her brother on the bench.

 

“Look,” Alfred starts, looking as though he isn’t quite sure what words to use, “I wanted to talk to you.” Edward simply stares at him. Those blue eyes; he could have sworn they had some hypnotic power.

“I really am sorry that my idiot brother and I ruined your evening yesterday,” Alfred continued.

“You didn’t -” Edward starts awkwardly.

“Come on, Edward, even if you weren’t planning on going to Hogsmeade, I’m sure that supervising a detention isn’t exactly your idea of heaven,” Alfred says, smiling slightly. Edward feels his heart do another backflip. He can’t stop himself from smiling shyly back at him.

 

“Anyway,” Alfred continues, “as it’s largely my fault that you didn’t get to go to Hogsmeade _or_ read your book properly yesterday, I was wondering if, maybe” - he pauses, a little pink in the face - “if maybe you’d like to come with me to the bookshop in Hogsmeade this afternoon? There’s still some Christmas activities going on, I think, we haven’t missed them all, and we could go book shopping _and_ get some festive Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, you know, have the best of both worlds, and…”

 

Edward stares at him. He could have sworn that Alfred was rambling nervously. A warm feeling of hope settles in his stomach.

 

“Are you….are you asking me out?” he asks hesitantly, cursing himself for an idiot the moment the words are out of his mouth, waiting for Alfred to snort.

But instead, Alfred gives him a small, shy smile. “Only if that’s what you want.”

Edward can’t stop a huge smile from spreading across his face, feeling a soaring sense of happiness. “That’s _exactly_ what I want.”

 

Alfred breathes out a little sigh of relief, his own face lighting up in response. “Well, if that’s settled - how about I meet you in the Entrance Hall after lunch? Say, one?”

“I’d like that,” Edward responds quietly.

Alfred gives him a huge, dorky grin, causing Edward’s heart to do yet another somersault. “Okay,” he says, standing up again. “Okay, great!”

 

“Will you boys be needing supervision, then?” Mina calls to Alfred, smirking.

“I think we’ll be fine, thanks, Mina,” Alfred responds, as Edward blushes furiously again.

 

“Looks like bloody Alfred Paget is abandoning me for the day, then,” Mina says, pouting.  “Fancy keeping me company in Hogsmeade instead, Florence?” Florence’s face immediately goes almost as crimson as Edward’s, and she beams at Mina.

 

“That’s alright then,” Rosalie mutters sarcastically, “I’ll just stay here by myself all day then, I guess. That’s fine. I love you guys too.”

 

Being rather preoccupied, neither her friend nor her brother respond.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Alfred finds himself waiting in the Entrance Hall, bouncing up and down nervously on the balls of his feet. He’s glad George isn’t around to see him; if his brother could see how ridiculously excited he is at the thought of a date with Edward Drummond, he knows he’d never hear the end of it.

 

And then Edward appears, waving awkwardly at him and giving him another one of those shy smiles which seem to make the entire room light up. Alfred feels his heart melt, and he knows he’s grinning back like a lovestruck idiot, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

“Hi,” Edward breathes, drawing closer to him.

“Hi yourself,” he responds.

For a moment, he forgets everything else, his gaze locked with Edward’s. Is he imagining things, he wonders, or are Edward’s eyes even more gorgeous than he remembered, flecked with a little green?

 

Alfred shakes himself a little, trying to bring himself back to earth.

“Shall we?” he asks, flashing Edward another smile, and relishing in his answering blush.

 

For a few minutes, they walk together in silence, darting glances at each other.

 

“You know, Victoria told me that you were just messing with me yesterday to get out of doing work,” Edward says shyly, breaking the silence. “She told me I was a gullible idiot.”

Alfred cringes. “George thought I was messing with you too...at least, at first,” he mutters, turning a little pink at the memory of his brother crowing with laughter. “Look, I won’t lie, I _may_ have tried flirting as a get-out-of-work strategy before, and it _may_ have worked; but I promise, yesterday was different. _You’re_ different.” He looks at Edward earnestly, willing him to believe it. “That’s why I came over to you this morning, to make sure you knew.”

Edward stares at him for a second, scanning his face as though to see how sincere he is. A moment later, his wary expression vanishes, replaced by a beaming smile which makes his entire face light up. Alfred thinks maybe he could look at that smile forever.

“So, tell me,” Edward says, still beaming. “Whose brilliant idea was it to enchant that mistletoe to follow Mr Penge around, yours or George’s? And which one of you is usually the mastermind?”

Alfred grins back at him. “Honestly, Drummond, I’m shocked that you would even ask! I thought you were a dignified Head Boy, and above such things.”

Edward giggles, giving Alfred an urge to wrap his arms around him. “Of course I am...but even a dignified Head Boy like me has to admit that it _was_ pretty funny. Don’t tell your brother I said that, though.”

“I promise, I won’t,” Alfred grins.

 

As they walk into Hogsmeade together, Alfred tells him all about George and his other brothers, and the various methods they’ve found of getting into trouble over the years.

“Our mum’s ex-husband came over to visit once,” Alfred says, grinning as he reminisces. “And George may have _accidentally_ slipped a bit of Shrinking Potion into his tea….Before we knew it, there he was, running around and squeaking swear words at us from the saucer!”

Edward giggles again, looking scandalised. “How long was it before he grew back to his normal size?”

Alfred shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, a couple of hours? Gege and I just sort of left him to squeak for a bit.”

Edward grins. “But it was your brother’s fault, of course.”

Alfred grins back at him. “Well, I won’t lie, Mum’s ex-husband is pretty bloody irritating and full of himself. But no, of course it was entirely Gege’s fault; I would _never_ be so badly behaved.”

 

As Hogsmeade’s bookshop comes into view at the end of the cobbled High Street, Edward’s face lights up with excitement, and Alfred fights the urge to grab him and kiss him senseless.

“Pick any book you like,” he says instead, as they step inside the warm shop, the soothing scent of pages surrounding them as the door shuts with a tinkle behind them. “It’s on me.”

“Are....are you sure?”, Edward asks, his eyes wide, already staring around at the stacked shelves, the winding staircases, the little reading nooks crammed with plump cushions.

“Positive,” Alfred responds, unable to keep from smiling at the pure joy on Edward’s face. “It’s the least I can do; my stupid brother and I screwed up your evening, remember?”

Edward looks back at him, beaming. “Come on,” he says, “come help me choose!”

 

Edward’s entrancement is infectious, as the two of them pull out books on everything from dragons, to ghosts, to wizarding wars and the Dark Arts, to the history of Hogsmeade itself, to festive charms for creating a cosy Christmas atmosphere.

 

“I have a question,” Edward asks curiously as they continue browsing.

“Mmm?” Alfred asks.

“Why was your mum’s ex-husband even visiting you? I mean, it doesn’t really sound like there’s any love lost between you.”

“Well, he used to bring some of his and Mum’s kids over to visit sometimes - you know, my half-siblings.”

“Wait, how many siblings do you have?” Edward asks.

“Five full brothers and sisters, and twelve half-siblings.”

Edward stares at him, clearly trying to wrap his head around it. Alfred laughs.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t _too_ hard to keep track of them. I barely ever see most of my half-siblings.”

 

Edward nods, clearly still trying to wrap his head around it. “And what about your parents? What are they like?” Edward prompts.

Alfred is only too happy to gush about his mother and father, explaining about his father Henry’s job as an Auror, how he fought in both the First and Second Wizarding Wars, and how his parents had met back when his mother Charlotte had been an Auror too. Both Henry and Charlotte had been members of the original Order of the Phoenix, Alfred explains proudly, although obviously the Order had been out of operation since the end of the Second Wizarding War.

“Mum doesn’t work as an Auror anymore, she writes for the _Prophet_ from home these days - but still, I certainly wouldn’t want to cross her,” Alfred chuckles. “I think even Gege is a bit scared of her.”

 

Edward is so fascinated listening to Alfred heaping praise on his family that he almost forgets to choose a book he wants. Only when Alfred reminds him does he hastily pick one out from the history and politics section.

“You really are a nerd,” Alfred says, smiling.

Edward blushes and looks down.

“I like it,” Alfred clarifies, grinning more broadly, and Edward promptly blushes even more furiously.

“Are you absolutely _sure_ you want to buy it for me?” Edward asks. “Because I really don’t mind…”

“I am absolutely certain, yes,” Alfred responds, cutting him off.

Edward looks down, blushing slightly again. “I...thank you.”

“Any time,” Alfred answers earnestly, wondering if there was anything he _wouldn’t_ do if it meant he got to see that shy smile.

 

“Fancy a quick stop at Honeydukes?” Alfred asks, as soon as they step back outside onto the snowy High Street.

“Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Edward answers, flashing Alfred another smile that makes him feel rather weak at the knees.

 

They’re enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air as soon as they enter the sweet shop, and Alfred grins as he glances around at the shelves crammed with succulent chocolates and fudge, fruit cakes and gingerbread Christmas trees, strawberry creams and truffles.

“Want to help me find something for my little sister?” Edward asks, smiling at the excited look on Alfred’s face as he takes everything in. “Seeing as Flo and I are both in Hogsmeade without her right now, I think Rosalie might just murder me if I don’t bring anything back for her.”

Alfred grins. “Well, we might have to do some taste-testing, if we want to make sure we find the best thing in here for your sister.”

“Sounds like a difficult task, but I’m sure we’ll find a way to struggle through,” Edward says solemnly, shooting a grin back at him.

It seems to Alfred that they sample almost everything in Honeydukes, from creamy nougat, to shimmering pink coconut ices, to Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavoured Beans, to fat golden pieces of honeycomb.

 

As they explore, Alfred asks curiously about Rosalie. Edward gushes about his little sister and their shared childhood memories, and it’s obvious that he utterly adores her.

“Christmas was always the best time of year in our house when we were kids,” says Edward, snapping a piece of gingerbread biscuit in two and handing half to Alfred as he speaks. “Mum and Dad would always let us stay up ridiculously late, and they gave us hot cocoa with cinnamon and gingerbread spice in it. It was the best, Rosalie would never shut up about it.”

“And your friend….Florence, right? How did you two meet her?” Alfred asks. “Oh, we’ve known Flo for years,” Edward explains, “she was our neighbour when we were kids. Flo would usually come round to our place; partially because she didn’t have any siblings of her own, and partially because she never wanted to be around her dad. He’s pretty awful. Flo’s great, she’s quick as a whip, and she’s always been there for me and my sister. I definitely wouldn’t want to get on her bad side, though!”

“Sounds like they’re both lucky to have you,” Alfred says, shooting him a look from under his eyelashes. Edward immediately goes red again.

“What about Mina, how did you guys become friends?” he asks.

“Oh, Mina and I have been best friends since first year,” Alfred answers. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. She’s pretty shy, but she’s definitely better than she used to be. She was raised by her aunt, see, who’s somewhat terrifying, so she was used to people walking all over her when she got to school. She used to get bullied quite a bit, at least until Harriet and I stepped in and told those people where they could stick it. Harriet and I have been friends since we were tiny, like you and Florence; she used to play Quidditch with me, and help me plot against Gege.”

 

Edward is listening in fascination, but he gets a little distracted once they reach the shelves that are crammed with different varieties of chocolate. Watching the pure joy on his face as he lets another singing chocolate minstrel melt on his tongue, Alfred once again feels the urge to wrap his arms around him and snuggle into his embrace. How could one person be so _precious_ , he muses to himself.

“Do you think you’ve found the right one for your sister yet?” he asks in amusement.

Edward looks at him with wide, pleading eyes, as though afraid that Alfred is going to drag him away from the chocolate.

“We’ve got to try as many as possible to be absolutely sure we’re making the right choice, right?” he says.

Alfred giggles, noticing that Edward has somehow managed to get a little smudge of chocolate on his cheek.

 

“Here, you’ve got a little….,” he says, instinctively standing up on his tiptoes and leaning in slightly to wipe it off. Edward looks down at him and freezes, a look of shock crossing his face at Alfred’s sudden proximity.

Alfred freezes too, his thumb brushing gently against the corner of Edward’s mouth, wondering vaguely where all the air in the shop has gone, and how their faces are suddenly only inches apart. Edward is staring at him with those gorgeous eyes, he’s close enough for Alfred to see the flecks of green, and their noses are almost brushing. If he just leaned in a fraction of an inch…

 

“Oh, hi there, boys!”, trills a familiar voice brightly. Both Alfred and Edward jump slightly, and turn around.

Both Mina and Florence are standing there, looking a little smugly amused. Alfred is somewhat surprised - and perhaps a little jealous - to see that their hands are already entwined.

“Imagine bumping into you two!” Mina continues, grinning widely.

“We were just talking about you ladies,” Alfred says, a little irritably. “I didn’t realise it would actually summon you, though.”

Mina sticks her tongue out at him. “Looked like a very _intense_ conversation from here,” Florence comments, smirking. Alfred sighs, while Edward turns a deep crimson next to him.

“Anyway, if you boys are nearly done in here, Florence and I were just heading to get a drink in the Three Broomsticks, if you want to join us,” Mina offers.

Alfred turns back to Edward. “So, _did_ you decide what you wanted to bring back for your sister, or did you just want to spend the rest of the day eating your way through all of the chocolate?”

Edward smiles sheepishly, ducking his curly head a little. Alfred fights back the temptation to run his hands through the curls. “No, it’s alright, I think I’ve decided,” he responds.

“Get her the salted caramel,” Florence pipes up. “I _know_ , Flo, that’s what I was _going_ to get her!” Edward bites back. Florence sticks her tongue out at him, and Alfred and Mina grin at each other in amusement.

 

Once Edward has paid for the chocolate, the four of them stroll over to the Three Broomsticks together, Florence and Mina walking a little ahead, hand in hand. Edward is struggling a little, trying to balance his new book and the chocolates for Rosalie.

“Can I carry something?” Alfred asks. “No need, I’m fine,” Edward responds. “You look a bit....flustered,” Alfred says, grinning as he takes him in. As he tries to grip his purchases tightly, his red and gold Gryffindor scarf has become loose, hanging very unevenly as though about to slide off, and he has stuck his wand behind his ear for safekeeping. “Let me at least help with this,” Alfred murmurs, standing up on tiptoe again and wrapping Edward’s scarf around his neck properly.

Edward stares at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Alfred whispers, staring back at him.

“Get a bloody move on, boys, we’re freezing over here!” Florence yells at them.

Alfred sighs. “We’re coming!” he yells back. Whose bright idea was it to turn this into a double date, he wonders, as he and Edward catch up to the others and enter the Three Broomsticks.

 

It’s toasty warm inside, and the whole pub is infused with the scent of woodsmoke, a fire crackling merrily away in the grate. A Christmas tree stands in each corner of the room.

“Why don’t you two sit for a bit, and Edward and I can go order drinks,” Alfred says to the girls, a little pointedly.

Mina raises an eyebrow slightly, grinning. “Sounds good to me.”

 

“Probably should have ditched them,” Alfred mutters to Edward once the two of them reach the counter. “Nice to get a few moments’ peace.” Edward grins.

“What can I get you?” the pretty blonde barmaid asks. Nancy, Alfred’s pretty sure her name is. She’s in George and Edward’s year.

“Three Butterbeers, and....” He turns to Edward. “What was it you said you and your sister used to have for Christmas when you were kids? Hot cocoa with gingerbread spice, right?” Edward stares at him and nods, eyes wide, as though surprised Alfred remembered. Alfred turns back to Nancy. “Can you make anything like that for him?” Nancy grins, a little mischievously. “I’ll see what I can do.”

They wait there for a few moments as she tinkers around putting their drinks together. She soon returns, carrying a tray of steaming mugs.

“Enjoy, boys,” she says, winking at Edward. Having already thanked her and picked up the tray, Edward doesn’t seem to notice. Alfred frowns slightly before turning and following him back to the table; it would appear Nancy recognises Edward as the Head Boy, and is amused by the sight of him on a date in the pub.

 

“Here you are,” Edward is saying to Mina and Florence, carefully handing them their Butterbeers. “To wonderful company,” Alfred says, his eyes fixed on Edward’s. Edward blushes immediately, and so misses his cue. “To wonderful company,” Florence and Mina respond, their gaze fixed on each other.

The four of them settle in to chat, Alfred asking Florence about her childhood adventures with Edward, Florence asking him if he has any embarrassing stories about Mina he’d care to share.

Alfred isn’t quite sure if it’s the Butterbeer making him feel so warm and giddy, or the way that Edward’s body is wedged in tightly next to him on the bench. In fact, the more gingerbread cocoa Edward gets through, the more giggly he gets, and the more he seems to be brushing against Alfred.

At first, Edward is just resting his arm against Alfred’s, but before long, he’s talking a little too loudly, resting his hand gently on Alfred’s thigh under the table in a way that seems almost absent-minded. Alfred tries _so_ hard to breathe normally and keep chatting as if nothing is happening, even as he feels Edward’s foot beginning to rub lightly against his calf.

Giggling to himself for no apparent reason, Edward turns to look at him, as Florence and Mina exchange smirks on the other side of the table.

“Alfred,” he says, flashing him another smile that seems to be pure sunshine, “You are sooooo gorgeous. Your eyes, they’re just....I mean, it’s ridiculous, right? Who has eyes like that?” he asks, appealing to Florence and Mina, who offer him no help but simply smirk at each other.

Alfred feels himself blushing as he once again fights down the urge to kiss the living daylights out of him. Probably not the best time for that, he figures. He may not have known Edward long, but he’s fairly certain there’s something going on here. Edward isn’t usually this bold, he’s sure of it.

“Did you enjoy your drink?”

“It was delicious,” Edward responds, still beaming. “I can’t believe you remembered what I said, that was so lovely!”

“Mmm,” Alfred says, picking up Edward’s mug. It’s completely empty now. “I’m just going to go and check something with the barmaid,” he says, standing up as a thought occurs to him.

“Alfred! Where are you going?” Edward asks worriedly, looking genuinely distressed. “I won’t be a moment,” Alfred tells him reassuringly, and Edward nods trustingly.

 

“It’s Nancy, isn’t it?” Alfred asks when he reaches the bar. She nods, grinning.

“Right. When I asked for a hot cocoa with gingerbread spice for my date, what exactly did you use to flavour it?”

Smirking, Nancy holds up a slender bottle. “Gingerbread liqueur. All the rage this time of year, you know.”

Alfred glances back towards Edward, who is still giggling to himself. He sighs.

“And how much did you give him?”

She shrugs. “Enough for it to be funny. Shame the Hogwarts Head Boy can’t handle his drink, isn’t it?”

“Hilarious,” Alfred mutters. “Thank you so much for your help.”

 

He walks back towards the others, chewing on his lip anxiously. He should probably take Edward back to the castle, he thinks with regret. He doesn’t want him to feel embarrassed tomorrow.

“Alfred!” Edward says delightedly, reaching out towards him. “Where did you go?”

“So, what did she put in his drink?” Florence asks amusedly.

“Gingerbread liqueur,” Alfred answers, “and a hell of a lot of it, it seems.”

“Don’t think that’s exactly how his parents used to make it for him, somehow,” Florence says, grinning.

He sighs again. “I’d better take him back. You guys don’t mind if we head off, do you?”

“No, of course not. Don’t let us spoil your fun,” Mina says, grinning as she watches Edward leaning his head against Alfred’s arm, an expression of utter contentment on his face.

His heart pounding at the warm touch, Alfred reluctantly pulls back. Edward looks at him with sad eyes, and Alfred represses the urge to kiss him on the forehead.

“Edward, I’m going to take you back to Hogwarts now, okay?” he says.

“Are you going to stay with me?” Edward asks, his eyes wide. Alfred nods, biting back a smile. “Okay then!” Edward says, positively beaming as he stands up.

“Oh, don’t forget your things,” Alfred says, suddenly remembering the book and the chocolates.

“What things?” Edward asks, giving him a baffled look.

“Your….never mind,” Alfred says. Pointing his wand at the purchases, he quickly mutters _‘Reducio_ ,’ shrinking them so they’re easier to carry, before levitating them so they float up towards him. He slots them under his arm.

“Ready?”, he asks, turning to Edward, who nods.

“See you later, ladies,” he says, gesturing for Edward to go ahead of him. He pads outside obediently.

“Have fun!” Nancy the barmaid calls after them. Alfred looks at her darkly before heading out after Edward.

 

As he closes the door behind him, he sees that Edward is standing on the snowy pavement with a rather vague and distant smile. He seems slightly unsteady on his feet, unable to stand completely still.

“You alright?” Alfred asks gently, unable to keep from smiling.

Edward turns to him. “I feel a bit funny, Alfred,” he says in a puzzled voice.

“I know,” Alfred says, drawing closer, ready to catch him if he staggers.

Edward gives him a dazzling smile that makes his heart turn over in his chest again and then, without warning, reaches out to take Alfred’s hand firmly, twining their fingers together.

“I feel better now,” Edward says brightly.

Alfred stares down at their joined hands, and then up into Edward’s beautiful dark eyes. He’s supposed to be keeping Edward steady, he muses to himself - so why does he suddenly feel it’s the other way around? How is it that he feels suddenly so warm and safe, just from having Edward’s hand locked in his?

“Good,” he whispers.

He shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to earth.

“Come on, let’s get you back, Mr Head Boy.” He tugs slightly on Edward’s hand, and Edward obediently falls into step.

“Thank you so much for buying me a book,” Edward says, beaming at him.

“Any time,” Alfred responds, grinning back, “and I mean that. You deserve to be spoilt.”

“I’ve had _such_ a good day,” Edward continues. “I never want it to end. All that chocolate....”

Edward continues gushing all the way back to Hogwarts, hardly stopping to draw breath. Alfred can’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, relishing in the warmth of Edward’s hand in his, stroking his thumb gently over his knuckle.

 

Once they get into the Entrance Hall, Alfred sighs, realising this most perfect date will be over soon.

“Alright, shall I walk you back to your common room?”

Edward looks back at him, a gleeful expression of mischief slowly spreading over his face.

“I don’t want to go back to my common room yet, Alfred,” he says. “Do you know what I want to do?” He leans in closer to whisper in Alfred’s ear, as though he has a huge secret, making Alfred’s heart pound again. “I want to go down to the kitchens, and make a Christmas cake with you.”

Alfred giggles a little at Edward’s tone; he makes it sound as if this is the most daring adventure anyone could ever have.

“But students aren’t allowed in the kitchens, Edward, you should know that,” he says, widening his eyes playfully in mock horror.

“Have _you_ been in the kitchens?” Edward asks.

“Well, of course _I_ have, with my brother,” Alfred responds, grinning, “but that’s no reason for you to be corrupted by my influence.”

“But I want to be corrupted by your influence,” Edward says earnestly, causing Alfred to blush deeply. Edward seems completely unaware of the impact of his words. “Please, Alfred?” His eyes are wide and pleading.

Alfred hesitates. If he was being sensible, he would explain to Edward that he’s had a long day, and a lot to drink, and he should go and rest in his dormitory.

On the other hand, he’s rather reluctant to say goodbye to him - especially when Edward is looking at him like _that,_ and has still not let go of his hand. Besides, nobody had ever claimed Alfred was sensible.

He grins. “Fine, we’ll go and cook - but only for a little while, understand?” Edward nods eagerly, beaming. “Let me just send these things to your room for you,” Alfred says, taking the book and the chocolates out from under his arm and waving his wand in a spiralling motion, so that they zoom off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on Edward’s hand again. “The kitchens are near _my_ common room.”

 

A few moments later, they’re standing hand in hand, in front of a large still life painting of a fruit bowl. Edward stares at Alfred in bewilderment.

“Tickle the pear, Edward.”

“What?” Edward asks.

“Tickle the pear,” Alfred repeats, grinning in amusement at the expression on Edward’s face.

Still looking baffled, Edward reaches forwards, and tickles the pear hesitantly. Immediately, it squirms and giggles, before turning into a large green door handle. Edward looks at Alfred with an expression of utter joy, and Alfred laughs, unable to resist leaning into him slightly. “Well go on then, open it!”

 

Edward steps in, his eyes full of wonder, and Alfred follows him into the familiar high-ceilinged room, his mouth already watering at the delicious smells of nutmeg, cinnamon and gingerbread. Edward gazes around in awe at the various fireplaces and tables laden with food. What appears to be a small army of house elves are already coming forward to greet them, beaming, bowing and curtseying. Alfred winces slightly, as usual a little uncomfortable with their servility.

Edward looks around at Alfred, looking slightly alarmed. “Oh, don’t worry,” Alfred mutters. “They’re not going to tell on us, they don’t actually care that we’re technically breaking school rules. They just want to feed us and take care of us.”

Edward laughs, and turns back to the house elves. “Good evening,” he says with impeccable politeness. “We were wondering if we could cook….” he trails off and darts a panicked glance at Alfred. “Alfred, what did we want to cook?!”

Alfred rolls his eyes, grinning. “A Christmas cake,” he supplies. “Edward here wanted to make a Christmas cake.” “Yes, that!” Edward says, beaming happily again.

Before Alfred can even blink, two house elves are zooming towards them, carrying a basket laden with dried fruits, sugar, butter, flour, eggs, cinnamon and nutmeg.

“That was impressive,” Alfred comments. “Thank you very much,” Edward says carefully, again the height of good manners.

 

Alfred takes the basket from them and places it down on a table, as two more house elves appear as if from nowhere, placing a spoon and bowl down in front of them.

Alfred turns to Edward. “Alright, Head Boy, this was your idea, so why don’t you get us started.”

“Alright,” Edward says happily. He moves forward, opens the bag of sugar, moves as if to pour some into the bowl….and then pauses, before looking round at Alfred nervously.

“Alfred….”

“Yes, Edward?”

“I….I have absolutely no idea how to make a Christmas cake.”

Alfred stares at his panicked expression for a moment, before bursting into giggles.

“Why did you beg me to come down here with you so you could make one then, you idiot?”

“I don’t know,” Edward says sheepishly. “It sounded like fun.” Alfred sighs exaggeratedly at him, rolling his eyes.

“I mean, I could try,” Edward says, making a movement as if to rip the entire sugar bag open and pour it all in.

“No!” Alfred says, hastily taking the bag away from him as he recalls how much gingerbread liqueur Edward has consumed. “How about I take charge?”

“Okay!” Edward says happily, stepping back willingly. “What can I do to help?”

“Oh, you can watch and learn from my expertise,” Alfred responds airily. “Oh,” says Edward, looking a little downcast, giving Alfred the urge to wrap him up in his arms again.

“I was joking, Edward,” he says. “You know what you can do to help? You can entertain me while I cook - why don’t you read to me from that politics book you were gushing about yesterday, the one your sister gave you?”

Edward brightens immediately. “I’d love to!”, he exclaims, beaming. “Fantastic,” Alfred answers, grinning back. A split second later, though, Edward’s face falls. “Never mind, I can’t read it to you,” he says sadly. “I don’t have it with me.”

“You know, Edward, I’m not sure if anyone’s ever told you this, but you are, in fact, magical,” Alfred says, grinning. “You could just use a Summoning Charm to get the book here from your dorm; you know, _Accio_?”

“Oh yeah!” Edward’s face lights up again. He digs around in his pockets for a moment, before looking up at Alfred fearfully. “Oh my god, Alfred, I’ve lost my wand!”

“No, you haven’t,” Alfred says patiently, trying to resist the urge to squeeze him tightly and press kisses all over his face. “It’s still behind your ear, you put it there for safekeeping earlier.”

“Oh,” Edward says again, blushing furiously.

Once Edward manages to Summon the book from his room, Alfred asks the nearest house elves to fetch Edward some coffee, hoping to counteract the effects of the alcohol a little. Finally, Edward settles in with his book and a large, steaming mug of coffee, while Alfred, still grinning to himself, turns back to the cake ingredients.

 

Alfred is only vaguely paying attention to what he’s doing as he listens to Edward reading to him, letting the deep, soothing voice wash over him. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so peaceful and carefree. Every now and then, Edward’s voice trails off in the middle of a sentence, and Alfred can feel his eyes on him. “Go on,” he says, smiling to himself, and Edward starts as though he’s suddenly been brought back to earth with a bump.

 

“Done,” Alfred finally announces, around an hour and a half later. He cuts a slice of Christmas cake, and holds it out to Edward, who looks at it doubtfully. “Oh come on, you’ve got to at least try my masterpiece!”

Edward takes a tentative bite, and grimaces for a moment, before struggling to turn it into a smile. “It’s….delicious,” he says. “Mmmm….”

Alfred frowns at him suspiciously. “Very convincing,” he says, reaching for it and taking a bite himself. Screwing up his face, he immediately turns around and spits it out into the bin.

“Oh god, that’s vile!” He exclaims. “I’m so sorry, Edward, you don’t have to eat that!!”

Edward looks at him - his gaze much more steady than before, Alfred notes - with amusement written across his face. “Alfred - do you actually know how to make a Christmas cake?”

Alfred looks down sheepishly. “No,” he admits. “Not a clue.”

Edward stares at him for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Alfred tries to look indignant, but Edward’s beautiful laugh is infectious. “But neither do you!” he defends himself through his giggles.

“Neither do _you_!,” Edward retaliates. “You said I should learn from your expertise!”

“Well, you seemed to have your heart set on it,” Alfred chokes out. “So I thought I may as well give it a go!”

“Well, nobody’s going to eat that,” Edward says, grinning. Alfred swats him on the shoulder lightly.

 

“Begging your pardon, sirs,” squeaks a high-pitched voice from somewhere in the vicinity of Alfred’s elbow.

Both boys look down to see two house elves, each carrying a perfectly wrapped little gift basket, crammed with fruit cake, Christmas pudding and gingerbread.

“We thinks you might be having a bit of trouble with the Christmas cake, sirs,” one of the house elves pipes up. “It’s a difficult recipe. So we takes the liberty of preparing you some treats to take with you, sirs.”

 

“I...thank you so much, that’s so kind!” Edward says, beaming again. He elbows Alfred lightly. “Say thank you, Alfred.”

“I was just about to,” he says, elbowing Edward back. “Thank you,” he says, addressing the elves and bending down to take the gift baskets they’re proffering. “This really is very kind of you.”

“Sirs might be wanting to get back to their common rooms?,” one of the house elves suggests. “It is rather late now.”

Alfred glances at his watch and curses. “Crap, they’re right, Edward, I must have lost track - it’s past curfew.” Edward looks at him, his eyes wide and panicked. “It’s alright, it won’t take long to get back, my common room’s just down the corridor,” he reassures him. “We just need to get a move on is all.” He reaches out a hand to Edward, who takes it immediately. Alfred feels a thrill of joy course through him. “Got everything?,” he asks. Edward nods.

“Thank you!,” they call to the house elves in unison, and rush out of the kitchen.

 

As Alfred predicted, it only takes them a few moments to reach the Hufflepuff common room.

Pausing by the entrance, Alfred looks up at Edward, and his heart seems to stop. He looks even more absurdly beautiful now, the planes of his face glowing in the moonlight.

“You know, I really did have an amazing day,” Alfred says. He’s not quite sure why it comes out as a whisper. Perhaps he’s afraid to break the moment.

“Me too,” Edward whispers back.

Alfred nods, trying to remember how to form words. He has to say goodbye to Edward now, he tells himself, he has to go. But he can’t seem to bring himself to.

He hears a tiny little shimmering sound above his head, and looks up. There’s a branch of mistletoe twisting slowly towards them.

“Look,” he whispers to Edward. Edward looks up obediently. “Bit of a cliche,” Alfred whispers, trying to grin through his heart pounding relentlessly.

Edward stares at him, longing written clearly across his face; Alfred is sure that expression mirrors his own. Time seems to hang suspended between them for a few moments - and then Edward surges forwards, pressing his lips against Alfred’s.

Alfred freezes for a second, wondering if he’s just making this up in his head, and Edward pulls back much too quickly, looking at Alfred as though worried he’s crossed a line. Alfred can’t stop a huge smile from spreading across his face, and he firmly pulls Edward towards him again, tasting his warm, soft lips, melting against him, sighing softly against his mouth. Never before has he felt such a soaring sensation of joy. Never before has kissing someone felt so profoundly _right_.

They break apart slightly, arms still wrapped around each other, and Alfred knows from one look at Edward’s face that Edward is feeling exactly the same way. He bumps his nose against Edward’s gently, and relishes in Edward’s dazed, lovestruck smile.

God, he could happily stay here in Edward’s arms forever.

 

“Paget!,” barks a familiar voice, making them both jump. Alfred sighs as he turns to face Professor Robert Peel, wrapped in his dressing gown and clearly on night patrol.

“For God’s sake, Paget, it’s _well_ past curfew, and here I find you loitering and canoodling outside your common room! You just _had_ a detention yesterday, and now I’m going to be forced to give you _another_ one! And I suppose the same goes for your canoodling companion, whoever he is, I can’t see….”

Peel stops short as he brings his wand light up to Edward’s face. “Drummond?,” he says in a tone of utter shock. “Is that you?”

Edward hangs his head, his face completely scarlet. “Yes, sir,” he says in a tiny voice.

“Well….I never….this is most irregular,” Peel stutters, seemingly lost for words. “Would you care to explain yourself, Drummond?”

Edward stares at him, and shakes his head slowly.

Peel sighs. “Well I must say, I expected better from you, Drummond,” he mutters. “And you Head Boy!” Edward nods mutely. “Well, I’m sorry,” Peel continues, “but the school rules have to apply in the same way to everyone.”

“Yes sir,” Edward says again.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to give _you_ a detention along with Mr Paget here. The two of you can head straight to bed now, please - if you both come to my office tomorrow morning we can sort out the finer details.”

“Yes, sir,” both boys chorus in unison.

Peel nods and turns to go, but turns back, frowning slightly as another thought occurs to him. “Oh, and I suppose we’ll have to find somebody else to supervise.”

Edward blushes again as Peel strides off, and Alfred fights the urge to laugh.

 

“Oh my god,” Edward moans as soon as Peel disappears from earshot, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe it! I’ve _never_ had a detention before!”

“Seriously?.” Alfred asks incredulously. _“Never_?”

“No, never!” Edward responds indignantly.

“Well then, I guess it’s lucky Peel just gave you one,” Alfred says brightly. “You’re in your final year, Edward, you can’t go graduating without a _single_ detention to show!”

Edward doesn’t look up, his face still buried in his hands. “I’ve let my parents down, I’ve let my sister down, I’ve let my teachers down…”

“Hey, hey,” Alfred says, taking Edward’s hands in his gently and forcing him to meet his eyes. “Was today the best day of your life? Because it certainly was for me.”

Edward gives him another slow smile that makes his heart melt. “It was.”

“And don’t you think that means that one measly little detention is worth it?”

“Maybe,” Edward whispers.

 

Grinning, Alfred leans in, brushing his nose against Edward’s.

“Merry Christmas, Edward.”

“Merry Christmas, Alfred,” Edward whispers, leaning in to kiss him again.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my ridiculously fluffy little Hogwarts Christmas AU!! Now buckle up, because now I've given them all that fluff, I feel less guilty about making them suffer in my main fic, Not Altogether Respectable - Chapter 20 coming soon!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos make my day - thank you for all your beautiful support that keeps me writing about these gorgeous boys on and on and on <3 <3 <3 xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments make my day - and again, a massive thank you to every single person who has supported my Drumfred fic-ing so far! <3 <3 xxxx


End file.
